


Heartbeat

by fabricatedMiracles



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 16:19:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabricatedMiracles/pseuds/fabricatedMiracles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life, for you, has taken on a new meaning. This is all in stark contrast with what you’d been living; where things were gray, now they are orange. There are now things in this world that keep you grounded, and at the core of your existence, you exist because he exists, and because in the beat of his heart, you find a reassurance language and code could never parse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wireless

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Heartbeat! Thanks in advance for taking the time to read this. It's rated T for skippable smut, however, if you think it should be clipped, drop me a line via comment, and I shall do that!
> 
> I’m not a huge fan of spoilers, but I certainly don’t like to let my readers go uninformed about possible triggers within my tale. So when there maybe some triggering event, I’ll make a note of it and what it is within the text in brackets, with the text bolded, underlined, and italicized, and at the end of it, in similar style, place {end cut, resume tale} for you to control+F if you choose to skip that particular part.
> 
> Perspectives will switch from Hal to Jake to Dirk every chapter. The theme of Hal’s chapter titles is the suffix ‘-less’, meaning ‘without’ and Jake’s titles are themed around the prefix ‘in-’, meaning ‘not’. Dirk's chapters will be themed with 'sub-', meaning under.
> 
> Sorry about the massive lack of colors on the text. I dunno how to do that yet. :/

_Chapter One - Hal_

_Wireless_

\- - turntechGodhead [TG] has started pestering timaeusTestified [TT]! - -

TG: Hal

TG: Hal i know you read me

TG: answer me

TG: oh my god

TG: are you always this slow or is it just the utter madness of the news im about to hatch all over your head thats making me all hyper like this

TT: Davesprite. DS. Calm down. I’m right here.

TT: Sorry for not instantly replying; I was looking out for Dirk. Apparently, he needs iron grist, but I won’t pretend to know why.

TT: Anyway, he wanted some locations, and I told him to swing by LOMAX and battle a few Ogres.

TT: You know how LOMAX is, though, all riddled with traps and such; I offered to keep oculars on him, in case of something.

TT: Things went down without a hitch, and I just cut my vid feed on him per his request, though he did, of course, say thanks.

TG: oh thats cool of you to help him

TG: i mean considering all that went down with you two

TT: I’m not angry at him for that. I feel some semblance of sympathy; both of us are terribly self-destructive and suffer from low self-esteem. So if he hadn’t been the one to start it, I’m almost fully certain that I would have.

TT: But I digress.

TT: You were going to hatch some news all over my figurative head, were you not?

TG: oh yeah thanks for reminding me

TG: i get so birdbrained sometimes

TG: particularly in the presence of this awesome as hell tree

TG: its just so great for nesting Hal i oughta show you it sometime

TT: DS, focus. News?

TG: right right

TG: brace yourself for this

TT: My processor is suitably situated and prepared for the impact of your announcement.

TG: damn i can never tell if youre serious or just sassing me

TT: There’s a high percentage of sass contained in everything I say.

TG: okay no Hal i dont need your sass right now

TG: because i made you a present

TT: Really? Did you program me something?

TG: no i actually made you a thing

TT: Did you forget how incommodiously situated I am at present? Nothing but plastic and metal keeping me ‘alive’.

TG: actually no thats exactly what i had in mind when we were putting it together

TT: ‘We’? I’m beginning to worry because the stupidity level of anything goes up when you add more people into the mix. Who exactly are ‘we’?

TG: me dirk and dave

TG: well i mean i had to call up rezi and then run it by jane

TG: but it was mostly us guys

TT: Oh, good Lord.

TT: I’ve braced myself further. Lay it on me.

TG: k well

TG: i really fell in love with you quickly

TG: cause id never met anyone that could understand the pain of being second best like you

TG: and because youre funny and charming and just so brilliant even without your supercomputer brain

TG: so i decided that i wanted to make it so you can feel the warm loved feeling that you make me feel

TT: And you said that it was a tangible thing. So it isn’t a patch to make me feel.

TT: Or a program.

TT: Damn, I’m at a loss. For once, my many probability calculators can’t punch anything out that makes any sense.

TG: maybe this will help

 - - turntechGodhead has sent timaeusTestified the file “lips” - -

TT: I’m obviously looking at someone’s mouth here, but they don’t seem to be alive. That, or there’s little to no ciculation in the extremities.

TT: I’d definitely suggest, if they’re alive, getting them up and moving; it’s not good to sit around when there’s not proper circulation.

TT: Or perhaps it’s an iron deficiency? The blood needs it to carry oxygen and damn, that’s why he needed the iron grist.

TT: But then, who is this? I haven’t heard of anyone passing out from anemia lately. All the girls, the guys, and you are fine and accounted for, and by the color of the flesh, I can tell that’s a human.

TG: Hal you dingus

TG: you forgot to count probably the person most important to me

TT: Me? But I…

TT: …

TT: Oh HELL no.

TT: Davesprite, tell me you did NOT alchemize me a body behind my back.

TG: okay i wont

TG: but then that would be lying

\- - timaeusTestified is an idle chum! - -

TG: dammit Hal

 

            Your name is Halcyon Dirk Strider, and you are an artificial intelligence contained in a pair of stupid-looking glasses. As an incommodiously situated bro, you had quickly resigned yourself to eternity in plastic. When Davesprite had come into your life, you’d been able to deal with it easier; you would spend eternity in plastic, but not alone. And now the sprite your circuitry and intelligence (and, much to your chagrin, the dregs of the internet) had you certain you loved had made you a real body of flesh and blood simply so you could feel the same way he says you make him feel.

            Needless to say, you feel a little overwhelmed, so you force all your apps to idle, off, or resting status, and for the first time since your creation, you willingly turn off the clock and power off, fading for a while into the empty darkness of timelessness, every second a day and every passing minute an hour.

-

 

            When your auto-on powers you back up from your semblance of sleep, you are immediately disoriented; your clock is still off, so you have no real sense of time. Are you too slow? Are you too fast? You don’t know. Before you reach into your consciousness for the clock, you are assailed by Davesprite’s pesters, and decide to read what he’s said while readjusting your functions back to their normal settings. It takes you a bit longer than it should, about two-thirds of a second, because of one of the cracks across your plastic, but you’ve grown used to it. After Dirk almost snapped you, you lost speed on a few of your higher functions, but only you could tell, and that was just fine by you.

 

\- - turntechGodhead [TG] has started pestering timaeusTestified [TT]! - -

TG: Hal

TG: i have a feeling you forced shutdown because of what i said and i am so sorry

TG: the body thing was too far

TG: too big a step

\- - timaeusTestified is an idle chum! - -

TG: and its not going to be pretty getting you into it

TG: so im sorry i thought youd like the gesture

TG: so that you could be real and close to me and we could touch and kiss and so that you wouldnt have to feel that your entire existence depends on these stupid shades youre stuck in

TG: when you wake up its fine if you dont want to talk to me

TG: i messed this up really badly

\- - timaeusTestified is an idle chum! - -

TG: looks like youre still sleeping

TG: or maybe ignoring me

TG: either way

TG: i dunno i still really want to know if youre okay so when you power on

TG: hit me up

 

            You become aware that a pang of distress has shot through your consciousness. You’ve worried Davesprite, and with someone as insecure as he is, it took a lot to calm him back down once he got high-strung. You quickly switch status and simultaneously message him. What would have taken him about two minutes to type spills from you in about a half a second, cluttering your display, and very probably his, with cherry red confessions of romantic affection.

 

\- - timaeusTestified is no longer idle! - -

TT: I love you.

TT: I’m beyond grateful for you even finding me worthy of your time.

TT: I’m glad you made me a body so that I can feel your heat, nuzzle your feathers, feel your hands in my hair… I was just shocked that you’d do that for me. I don’t want to ignore you; I would never even consider for a single second breaking up.

TT: I need you, DS.

TT: I want to curl up in your tree with you, in your nest. I want you to be the one to teach me how to live.

TT: I want you forever, Davesprite Strider. You may not the be the ‘alpha’ Dave, but I would never settle for someone less than you. Feathers, 413 shades of orange, emotional issues, and all the rest.

TT: Deities above stand as witness to my love for you. I love you with all my circuitry, and hopefully, soon, with all my heart.

 

            You stop spouting nonsense long enough to allow him to reply to you.

 

TG: oh

TG: jeez Hal now im crying

TG: stop being so poetic its making me fall in love with you more somehow

TT: Sorry.

TT: I get it from Dirk’s mushy side.

TT: Anyway.

TT: About my entry into my body.

TG: you dont have to do it if you dont want to

TT: I want to. Did you totally disregard my entire scarlet soliloquy?

TT: Ignore my crimson confession?

TG: Hal

TT: I want to.

TT: Don’t question me further, lest I change my mind. I’m not going to dwell on risk.

TT: Tell me how it has to happen.

TG: well this is the part i dont like much but uh

TG: someone has to snap you in half and stab your body in the chest with the pieces

TG: so that terezi and dirk can guide your mind and soul into the right places

TT: …

TT: …

TT: I’m scared.

 

            You recall that fateful conversation with Dirk that caused you to say those words for the first time, and you steel yourself for the repercussions of what you’re about to say.

 

TT: But if I have to die to live, I’d want you to be the one to do it.

-

 

            It’s going to be a quiet death for you in one of Dirk‘s rooms. You aren’t really going to invite everyone you know to watch you die and be reborn, so you invite only five people. Dave is, as always, punctual and setting a precedent in his sharp red suit. He greets you, and you blink your ocular lights at him in Morse code to indicate a response. You’re much too anxious to think in language, so Morse will have to do for now. Dirk arrives, his suit black as the night and his shirt a dusky orange. You Morse him a compliment, and he nods. Terezi arrives in her Legislacerator clothing, the most formal thing she owns, and you give her a little blinky cheek about the way the red brings out her eyes, which are gradually filling teal as she gets older and passes through the various molt stages of a troll’s development. Jane, never late, shows up in a sweet cyan sundress, and you sincerely thank her for being here for you, to heal your wounds and return you to life.

            Last to arrive, plausibly for symbolic effect, Davesprite.

            You blink at him, _‘Hey there, love.’_ He responds in kind, using a wingtip to twitch the words he wants out.

            Dave explains how things will be working; Davesprite will break you and stab the body you had yet to see in its chest, killing it and you, and then the combined efforts of Dirk, Terezi, and Jane, will return you to life.

            When you ask Dirk if you can see what will be your face, he looks to Davesprite, who nods, and they carefully peel back the sheet draped over the young man asleep in the bed.

            For the first time in your existence, you lay ocular sensor on yourself, and the first thing you notice is the Strider jaw. Strong and with a determined set, even in sleep, it’s already got a thin layer of pale stubble growing in. You note that it’s red, about wine colored, and matches your hair. Your cheekbones, high and regal, channel Dirk, and your relaxed brow is reminiscent of Dave. The freckles that mark your face, neck, and wiry shoulders are distinctively Strider, but you can see in your lips and the texture of your hair and skin that you got lucky and took after the Lalondes. Long, lean legs clothed in jeans, strong ankles, bare feet, bare chest, and a pair of X’s on either side of the sternum in surgical marker.

            That, you know, is where the pieces of your current body will come into contact with your new body of flesh.

            You announce, shakily, your readiness, and Davesprite carefully takes you into his hands, one end of your triangular frame in each hand, and he whispers to you that he is sorry. You blink back a reassurance, and slowly, he starts to bend you.

            Your functions begin to slip away, beginning with the Internet and ending with your clock. You aren’t certain, to this day, if you heard yourself snap, sparking out your last dregs of life, or if that was just in your imagination.

-

 

            When you wake, it’s dark.

            You’ve got awareness of limbs, of body parts, and of senses working, and after a bit of thought, you realize your eyes are closed, and you slowly open them, not precisely having to know how to do it to make it happen.

            Your breath catches on the way to your lungs when you realize that you‘re seeing with eye, not interpreting a bitmap‘s pixels and aligning them with preset meaning, and it’s only then you realize that yes, you’re breathing, and that you don’t need to be aware of it for it to happen.

            You’re awake. You’re alive. You’re aware, but not of everything (for the first time). And then you feel an ache in your chest, and your brain, which was, as far as you could recognize, operating purely on instinct at the moment, helpfully supplies an emotion.

            You are feeling joy for the first time, and it’s so overwhelming you react inappropriately, with what was normally considered to be a sign of frustration, pain, or sorrow: you cry.

            Tears streak down your face, and you make a strangled noise of those that crying people make, as you’d seen in some films you’d taken the time to watch and study to better understand the human behaviors and emotions you were missing, and your hand, almost of its own accord, reaches for your face the moment you think _‘I’d like to touch my face’_ and then you somehow cry even harder.

            Between the tears, you manage to laugh, and though to you it sounds strange, unusual, you have a feeling it’s something you’ll be doing often.

            Of course, eventually, you calm down, taking long breaths of air, holding them until your lungs burn, and when that grew tiresome and made your head buzz a bit, touching everything near you like a child might. You feel like an inquisitive four-year-old with a brain the size of the Internet, and you realize with a start that you are in control of yourself.

            Exploration of this new world, starting with yourself, is inevitable, so you shift around in the bed, pushing the blanket off your body and kicking your legs (in a slow, jerky way) so you can look at your feet. You’ve linked the parts you see on yourself to a diagram you’re examining in your mind, and you are happy out of your head to see just how much of Hal _-of you-_ there actually is.

            Toes wiggle, knees bend, hands twist, arms reach; everything is in working order. Your chest, bearing two linear scars forming a V shape from either side of your breastbone and the remains of some surgical marker and a bit of blood, rises and falls with your breath.

            You find yourself captivated by the jeans you’re in, the feeling of fabric on flesh strangely pleasing, and though your fine motor skills are virtually nonexistent (you realize you don’t know how to write or speak yet, but that you can read), you manage to pop the clasp and take down the zipper. With a bit of a shimmy, the loose trousers slide right off, and you kick them aside to gaze down at the boxer briefs you’re wearing.

            There’s about an eighth of an inch of blue fabric between you and the part of your body that makes you, genetically, a man. The low waistband allows you a peek at the tuft of soft red hair that grows there, and just barely, you touch it with a finger. It’s softer than you’d expected; you’d often heard that it was wiry, and though you hadn’t touched wire yet, you could certainly assume that it wasn’t a good feeling, having wire near a part of your body so sensitive.

            Sliding your other hand under your waistband somewhat ungracefully, you take hold of yourself, the warm flesh oddly alive, and that combined with the touch pulls a gasp from your lips. Then you know you’re caught, you’ve got to see this through, you need this because it feels good, and you can’t help yourself.

 

**_ {Beyond this point there’s some sexual content, consisting of Hal masturbating. Skip if you like (instructions in the author’s notes), or if not, carry on. It‘s very short and relatively light,  however.} _ **

**__ **

            You take the underwear, which had suddenly become an obstacle, right off, flinging it aside to God knows where, and then return your hand to your slowly hardening member, gripping the shaft and squeezing experimentally. You’re hesitant to actually work  your hand like the Internet’s suggested, lest you go too hard and injure yourself, so you muster your strength and roll over so that your first erection’s flush against the gray bed sheets, between your body and the bed, and you turn your head, resting it on the pillow, so that you’re gazing at the wall.

            And then you push down with your hips, and the feel of the silky fabric of the sheets sliding against your quickly warming skin actually makes you whimper.

            _Damn,_ you think, instinctively falling into rhythmic thrusts, _this is too much._

            Moans and wails and thoughts of Davesprite clutter your head, and you curse and hiss and thrust harder, pushing against the mattress with a vengeance as you get harder. A bit of your fluid’s moistened the sheets, and you don’t have to even think about it. You’re getting close, you’re going to orgasm, you’re going to, you’re wailing, pulled taut, and you stiffen, fall silent, and it shakes you hard.

            Quivering, trembling, with your juices between your body and the bed, your back slowly relaxes, and Davesprite lingers in your mind. What will this be like when it’s with him? You file that question away for a later time, and you smile.

 

**_ {end cut, resume tale} _ **

 

            Your breathing slowly returns to normal, and then fades into deep, slow breaths as sleep overtakes you.

            You scarcely give a thought to the state of disarray in the room and your own nakedness as you slip away into the peaceful darkness of human sleep.

-

 

            You wake to someone shaking your shoulder lightly. Your blankets have been draped over you again, covering your naked body. You slowly drift awake, opening your eyes blearily, and you find yourself gazing at something blurry, orange, and black. You make no sound, your heart thrumming excitedly, and you hear Dirk’s voice, because admittedly, you are a bit dismayed. “Hey there, Hal. Up and at ‘em, bro. Let’s get you a shower.” He helps you to sit up, and you groan tiredly. Your brain fills you in on your current status. You’re sticky, hungry, and you want to see Davesprite. Unfortunately, you don’t have language at your command at the moment, so you can’t precisely convey your need. You manage, however, to indicate your hunger with a groan and a hand to your cramping stomach. Dirk understands, and he says, “After your shower. Can’t have you going down to the kitchen the way you look now. You’re pretty sweaty, bro.”

            You nod, and Dirk picks you up with a grunt of exertion. He doesn’t say anything about the stickiness of your chest, or the sheen of sweat across your back, or even the whiteness on the sheets; he carried you to the bathroom and sat you in the tub, running the water and helping you bathe.

            “So I guess you can’t talk yet?” Dirk starts.

            Hesitantly, you raise a hand and jerkily shake it back and forth. Your motor skills are still shaky, but that’s enough for Dirk to guess at your meaning, and he says, “So you haven’t tried?”

            You shake your head, and Dirk scrubs at your back with the washcloth. “I see.”

            “In that case, then, Hal, lesson one. Vowels. Try it after me. Ah.”

            You open your mouth, focus, and manage it. “Aaah,” you say, and Dirk guides you through the different sounds the letters make as you revel in the feelings that come with a life.


	2. sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ;-; i'm sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just read it and understand.

my style has changed too much to continue this. i'm going to have to overhaul it completely, and i don't have time right now.

for the moment, heartbeat is discontinued.


End file.
